


Samael

by Navaros



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Lucifer's past, bad parenting 101, etablished relationship, little samael, maybe a little more, my idiotic selfmade background for Lucifer and Maze, poor little Lucifer, some hurt, tripping over wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13230135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navaros/pseuds/Navaros
Summary: “Stop scratching your wings, Sam.” Amenadiel rolled his eyes and Michael next to him just made a scoffing “hmpf.”“But I’m itchy,” the young one complained and continued to rub his back against a wall, not knowing that this would be his method to get rid of old feathers many millennia later when he was banned.“I know, we all were at this point but scratching doesn’t help. It makes things worse. Use the lotion that Rafe made you.”Samael crossed his arms in front of his chest and his wings flared out. Still downy, partly naked, not really impressive or threatening. “But that stuff smells like Dad’s worn robes. Or even worse, like Uriel's nappies. NOOO WAY.”





	1. Downy wings

**Author's Note:**

> This story was in my head for a looooooong time. And I'm in love with it.
> 
> Inspiration was [Fever Dreams](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11995464) from the Amazing Antarctic_Echoes. The little scene that inspired me is also in this story.  
> And thanks for the ever amazing Antarctic_Echoes for beta reading <3 YOU ROCK

“How was he as a kid?” A question so innocent, so curious. “Have you even been children at some point?”  
Amenadiel gulped. He knew Lucifer would never talk about that time. Not even to Chloe. But could he? He remembered those times. It had been so much easier back then.

“Yes, yes Chloe, we were children once. And he was always special.”

The Detective threw a curious look at the bald angel. Amenadiel, like Lucifer, didn’t share his thoughts easily. She rolled her eyes.

“Can you tell me about it?”

Where should he begin? It wasn't like a short human childhood, their youth lasted hundreds and thousands of years. But seen in relation to being million years old, it was a short childhood.

“Okay, let’s see…”

 

* * *

 

“Sammy, come back here!” It was the same ritual every day, the broad, black angel played babysitter for his younger brother. Dark, curly hair with even darker eyes. A smile as bright as pure light, but the little one wasn’t as innocent as he looked. He had stolen Amenadiel’s fruits again. And why? Because he was bored. Samael wanted to have some fun with his brothers and sisters, but most of them were just too uptight. It wasn’t his thing to just pray to Father the whole day. Booooring. He loved to explore the Silver City and the surrounding gardens. He wasn’t allowed to, but who could stop him?

Yes of course, Amenadiel. The big angel ran after him, like almost every day. The young angel, no bigger than a 10 year old human child, was faster and more agile. His little downy wings flapped full of joy.

He couldn’t wait till he was finally able to fly. But for now he had to run and he knew the city better than anyone else.

It was their daily game of catch and even if Amenadiel would never admit it, he enjoyed the daily distraction from his duties.

Even if he let Samael win most of the time. He had to admit, the little one was getting pretty fast. It got more difficult every day to keep up with him.

 

* * *

  

Chloe giggled. “Curly hair? Yeah, Lucifer hates it, but I think it’s cute.” She could see Lucifer's pouting face in her imagination. He was so vain, even more since his wings were back. His behaviour got ridiculous when one of his feathers wasn’t perfectly aligned. Lucifer would sit down on his couch and preen his wings like a big, giant bird.

Chloe would lying if she told herself that she didn’t enjoy the view.

She loved even more to help him, to bury her hands deep down in his feathers and make him purr. It wasn’t exactly a purr like a cat, more a mixture of a purr and some pleased bird sounds. The first time she heard them, she thought he was messing with her. That was till she learned that Angels sometimes made those sounds. Like they had their own language other than the spoken one. And now she tried to get those noises out of her Devil as often as possible, because it hit her when she got to know the meaning behind them.

Pleasure, the sound of pure innocent pleasure, without sex or favors involved, just like two people who were showing affection to each other, was an alien concept to Lucifer. And how long had it been, that he had a reason for those tones? Not since he started to have his own mind and desires in heaven, and she doubted he had that opportunity in hell.

“So downy wings, hmm? I know that angels molt, but downy wings?” Chloe grinned again - the idea of those wings, too cute to be true.

Amenadiel nodded, taking a sip of his Cosmo - Lucifer wasn’t here to make fun of him.

“Yeah, molting is really annoying. It’s itchy and a big mess, as you know.”

 

* * *

 

“Stop scratching your wings, Sam.” Amenadiel rolled his eyes and Michael next to him just made a scoffing “hmpf.”

“But I’m itchy,” the young one complained and continued to rub his back against a wall, not knowing that this would be his method to get rid of old feathers many millennia later when he was banned.

“I know, we all were at this point but scratching doesn’t help. It makes things worse. Use the lotion that Rafe made you.”

Samael crossed his arms in front of his chest and his wings flared out. Still downy, partly naked, not really impressive or threatening. “But that stuff smells like Dad’s worn robes. Or even worse, like Uriel's nappies. NOOO WAY.”

Again Amenadiel rubbed his face. Did he have to behave that way? Why couldn’t he be a small and nice little angel like his siblings? No, this one was the worst yet. And why did he never listen?

Samael ran away again, without the lotion, of course.

Back in his room, he sat in his little blanket nest on top of a pile of pillows and more blankets, trying to preen his wings as good as possible without any actual feathers. The first pin feathers were coming through and that itching drove him nearly insane. He knew how that worked, he had seen the molting periods of his siblings several times. But the first time was the worst, the soft down would be replaced by big, giant feathers. He was curious what color and form he would get. Every angel got a different set of wings and the final shape wasn’t visible till the feathers grew in completely. He had grey down, but that’s the color they all had at this point.

Oh, he couldn’t wait to try flying. It looked amazing, all his siblings in the sky, racing against each other sometimes.

It took a few days full of cursing, chasing and pouting every time while Michael held Samael and Amenadiel lotioned his wings. Even if it helped, the young angel hated the feel of restraints. But his feathers grew in, pure white with an internal glow, and big, really big, if not the biggest in all heaven.

Maaaaybe a little too big, because Samael tripped more than once over his wings, the long primaries touching the floor all the time. He had grass and other stuff in his feathers every day, and that was just annoying. He hated to feel filthy. Samael flapped his wings furiously to get rid of the leaves and other dirt. He was happy that none of his brothers and sisters could see him at this moment, because it was humiliating. The first try to fly and he face planted right away because one of his feathers got stuck in a root. Great! Yeah, he could wait for one of his siblings to show him how to do it the right way, but he didn’t want to. Samael wanted to fly. NOW!

Why did Dad gave him these stupid giant wings? Now he had to get them groomed and his pride forbade him to ask his siblings. He was going to prance in front of them with his disheveled wings till one of them would offer to help. Hah! That way he wouldn’t need to ask, because they offered. Totally different.


	2. Boredom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is it brother? Spit it out, what did you do?”  
> Samael pouted. “Why do you always think I’ve done something?”   
> Amenadiel raised one eyebrow, sending a sceptical look towards him.  
> “I swear, I’ve done nothing. I just asked a for little time with him.” He hunched his shoulders in defeat, his wings drooping to follow the motion.  
> “Is it too much to ask? He promised me, Amenadiel. I just wanted to show him.”  
> “You know pride is a sin?”  
> “No! I’m not...I just wanted to share something with him. I know we all have each other, it’s just…” Samael’s look dropped to the ground and he began to pluck the grass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teenage Lucifer is adorable and Dad is an ass

Chloe giggled. “Yeah, totally sounds like him. He is so vain with his wings, he would never ask me but he loves it when I groom them.”

Amenadiel nodded with a big grin. “I should have offered him my help with his wings back in hell.” The black angel felt bad about it now. 

But it was done and all he could do now was simply be a better brother. 

Chloe must have seen the sad look on his face, because she put her hand on his forearm. “Hey, everyone makes mistakes, even angels...No, especially angels. You changed a lot since I’ve known you, as did Lucifer. You know him, he enjoys your company even without telling you. He is stubborn and proud, wounded and hides his insecurities behind a mask, but I see the look on his face every time he gets a message from you. I think a well hidden part of him really misses his family. Maybe not his Dad, but his siblings. Okay, who am I kidding? He misses his Dad. I’m sure he is searching for approval and an apology or any other small thing from him. He is angry. But he is still that little boy who needs his parents.” Chloe rolled her eyes at her own words. “Please don’t tell him that I just called him a little boy. I would never hear the end of it.” The Detective sighed heavily

“He grew up in a big family. He isn’t made for loneliness. Am I right?”

“You have no Idea.” Amenadiel sipped his drink once again.

 

* * *

 

“Samael! I don’t have time for you now. I’m busy. LEAVE!”

“But Dad…” The young angel had a hurt, crestfallen look on his face. 

“You should not call me that, son. I told you I’m busy.”    
“Yes….Father.” Samael let his wings droop and pressed them against his back. 

“But you promised. You promised to look when I finished them. You are supposed to keep your promises.” Samael was never an easy one. He was never obedient like his brothers and sisters, he always questioned orders. It was something his Father was angry about, even if he had made him that way.

“Go and play with your siblings, Samael.” 

“Yes...Father.” He left, feeling betrayed once more. He promised. Why would he promise something only to break it afterwards? Samael looked up at the sky. There was his creation. Bright, illuminating the sky for Father’s little project. He was so proud, but Dad? He refused to even look at them. As soon as the angel left the building, he kicked the first stone he saw. 

His mother was busy brooding about Father’s project. And his siblings? They didn’t want to spend time with him. They wanted to do their jobs. Eating, sleeping, some wing grooming, then their jobs again. 

That was all they could think about. Maybe his favorite brother could spare some time. What did he do anyway? Samael spread his wings and with a few powerful flaps he was off the ground, flying to his destination. 

He heard the sound of metal against metal in the air. Amenadiel was training. Of course. There were only a few activities other than that which the angel did in his rare free time. His sparring partner Sachiel was sweating and panting. While Amenadiel just had one big longsword, she preferred to fight with two one-handed swords - wings also flared out, the wing blades shining in the sun. 

Both ended their sparing as they saw the young angel, and Sachi smiled. “Thanks for the training, brother.” She bowed down before she took off. Samael sat down on the grass and looked at him. Just looked, with those damn brown eyes of his. 

“What is it brother? Spit it out, what did you do?”

Samael pouted. “Why do you always think I’ve done something?” 

Amenadiel raised one eyebrow, sending a sceptical look towards him.

“I swear, I’ve done nothing. I just asked a for little time with him.” He hunched his shoulders in defeat, his wings drooping to follow the motion.

“Is it too much to ask? He promised me, Amenadiel. I just wanted to show him.”

“You know pride is a sin?”

“No! I’m not...I just wanted to share something with him. I know we all have each other, it’s just…” Samael’s look dropped to the ground and he began to pluck the grass. 

“I don’t know the feeling in my chest, but it’s horrible. I can’t explain it and it seems you the others don’t feel the same. You all have your assignments and are happy to do nothing more that that all day. But me? Yes, I love to make all the lights. But is it wrong that I want to spend time with my family? Besides sleeping and grooming? We all could discover the little worlds that Dad made... together. Just a few at a time, nobody would know if we took some time off, you know?”

“Oh Sammy, you know that Father forbade it. You don’t want to be the target of his wrath, do you?” Their Father could be a jerk if he was angry. Little Uriel, the youngest of their siblings - at the moment - knew this. He once destroyed a big part of the library with his powers - just removing a little book was enough. Uriel just wanted to know how his powers worked and for what they were useful. He was grounded, not allowed to fly for a long time. And every one of the siblings loved flying. That’s what they were made for, after all, and it was a big part of their bodies and souls.

“We could train together, little brother.” That would be spending time together, at least in Amenadiel’s head. What was the difference between that and visiting the little balls of dirt down there? 

“Well if you insist, but you know how that ends.”

Amenadiel glared at him. “NO lightbringer skills, so it will be fair, little brother.”

The other angel pouted and ruffled his wings. That was a huge disadvantage. He was faster than Amenadiel, a lot actually, but the other had much more experience and strength. Amenadiel could knock him out with a single hit if he wanted to. 

“Training blades, then,” the younger one muttered. His brother agreed to that. Normally Samael would have preferred his fire sword, but this training sword had to do for now. 

He started his attacks; Amenadiel knew him well by now. He was impulsive, without strategy. But Samael was young, never fought a real battle, so who he was to blame? And he wouldn’t listen, always counting on a feint or his lightbringer magic to win a fight. And why not? It was a lot of power, frightening even, for some of the siblings. 

Amenadiel sent him to the dust a few times, gave him a few bruises and a few broken and dirty feathers. 

Samael huffed, annoyed as he stood up again. One hit. He just wanted to have one hit. He could do it. The longer the fight went on, the more advantage Samael had. He learned the patterns of Amenadiel’s fighting, similar to Uriel...No. Uriel knew the patterns, he had to learn them. 

Just one hit….He ducked as Amenadiel was about to hit him, jumped over him - with a flap of his wings - right after he avoided the sword and hit him on one of his wings.

That brought a big, bright smile over the young angel’s face. A proud one. And Amenadiel could only chuckle. “Good, little brother. But I will not abandon my post here. You have to learn that. Obey Father’s orders. Do not challenge him, Sammy. His patience will wear out out at some point.”

The latter threw his hands up in defeat. “But it’s boring. I’ve lit the sky, I even did more than he asked for, painted pictures in the dark and now I’m bored. I want to see his newest project. I want to spend time with him.”

 


	3. First angel of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Father, I can’t do this!”  
> “You can and you will.” God’s voice boomed so loud that Samael had to cover his ears. “You are bored? Fine, here is something to kill time. Now go!”  
> Samael left again while his father continued tinkering. His new project, “humanity” as he called it, was in a test phase. And the young angel was assigned to collect their souls when their time had come. They weren’t immortal like him and his siblings, but they had something else. Free will. They could do everything they wanted, without needing to ask. Without fearing punishment from Father. Their own consequences? Yes. Death at worst.  
> But Samael hated his new job. He wasn’t allowed to interact with humanity, except for collecting their souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer loves music and he looks so happy playing his piano in the newest episode.  
> In my head, Samael and music have a really special connection :D

“Typical Lucifer.” Chloe shook her head. Lucifer was always a free spirit, wanted to do his own stuff in his own way. But to hear that their parents didn’t spend much needed time with their children at all made her heart ache. He was a child, well more like a young teenager at that point and it explained a lot about why Lucifer didn’t know how to act around spawn, as he called them. Amenadiel was far better with Trixie, but on the other hand, he hadn’t spent eons in hell and had raised a lot of his siblings.

“Yeah, he was always a handful. He couldn’t stop trying to get Father's attention, or Mother’s. He tried to explore everything, he tried to do it with our siblings. But they didn’t listen. Raphael, Gabriel and I were the closest to him. The others were so annoyed at one point, they started to ignore him most of the time. He tried to hide it, but I know how much it hurt him. And since he kept pestering Father about how bored he was, he got a new assignment. The first Angel of Death. That was something he hated even more than boredom. Have you ever heard the sounds a distressed angel makes? It breaks your heart, and young Samael made them a lot. When he was alone, wearing a mask even then, he thought nobody would hear him, but I did. This job killed him inside, just a little every time.”

 

* * *

 

“Father, I can’t do this!”

“You can and you will.” God’s voice boomed so loud that Samael had to cover his ears. “You are bored? Fine, here is something to kill time. Now go!”

Samael left again while his father continued tinkering. His new project, “humanity” as he called it, was in a test phase. And the young angel was assigned to collect their souls when their time had come. They weren’t immortal like him and his siblings, but they had something else. Free will. They could do everything they wanted, without needing to ask. Without fearing punishment from Father. Their own consequences? Yes. Death at worst. 

But Samael hated his new job. He wasn’t allowed to interact with humanity, except for collecting their souls. A few generations later he was feared amongst them, because every time they saw him, they knew one of them would die. He tried to talk to them. Well, they couldn’t talk much yet. More grunt and huff, but he wanted to get to know them. He knew that they would be released onto a little ball called Earth, but at the moment they lived in a garden near the Silver City, since their future home was inhabited by Dad’s last passion, some big and stupid reptiles. There weren’t only Adam and Eve like humans today  have been thaught. No, think about it. Incest would wipe them out within a few generations. 

Again, he returned to collect a soul from a dying body, as the other humans cowered in fear in the back of their cave. While their dying friend was suffering, he stood there, a sad smile on his face. 

But then he heard it for the first time, the sound they made - it was not their grunting, it sounded more melodic. They all made the same sound to calm each other down, maybe to get rid of him...? He tilted his head in curiosity, enthralled by that rough sound. He tried to copy it, but from him it sounded even more beautiful. Samael’s face lit up. He loved it in an instant. He didn’t know what it was but it filled him with so much joy, and the humans seemed to like it too. So he continued, varied it like it was natural to him. The dying human before him calmed too. His soul left his body peacefully. And from that point on, they didn’t fear him that much anymore. Yes, in some way they still did, but if the time for one of their own came, they somehow tried to summon him by copying his sounds and they also varied them. Samael didn’t hate his job anymore. True, it made him sad. But every time he went to collect the soul, the humans were less afraid. If one of theirs was hurt badly and in horrible pain, they even smiled at him because he would end their suffering.

But as the humans evolved, they tried more and more things. They needed rules, Father decided. And every time they did something he didn’t like, Samael was the one who had to punish them. And they started to fear him again. They obeyed his Father blindly just so they didn’t have to deal with the angel’s wrath. And when one of them died, they no longer greeted him; they tried to drive him away and protect the dying one. 

Again he felt lonely, he still hadn’t a name for that emotion but it was eating him alive. His siblings just didn’t understand him, called him crazy and reckless. They were happy with their jobs and busy not thinking about it.

 

He sighed heavily, sitting in the garden in one of Father’s trees and eating one of his fruits. A young female human approached him, curious and not frightened by him. He smiled at her. The humans had come a long way, they even spoke now, not as much as the angels but they got better. And they even had their own language.

”You want one?” Samael showed her the pomegranate. She shook her head. He knew that his Dad had forbidden the humans to eat those fruits. Just because he could, just to prove a point. But what was the point in having free will if they couldn’t use it? 

“I know this is what you desire. I mean, I can eat it right? And dear old Dad doesn’t strike me down, soooo?” He tilted his head again, smiled at her. She was insecure. He took a bite and handed her the rest to try it. 

And that’s how everything went south.

 

 

* * *

 

“He didn’t have bad intentions, Chloe, you know? He just wanted to prove something to Father and he enjoyed company. Lucifer was always the one who needed company the most. Everything in his being is made for it. He can create light, light attracts everyone. He can draw out desires, those bring people together. Not all desires are selfish and evil. He somehow invented music, and that connects people and angels. “ 

Amenadiel emptied his drink and leaned back. Chloe had a lot to think about. She had never heard so much of her partner’s past before. When Lucifer was open enough to tell her something about it, it was mostly hell related. The Silver City was always boring and not important when she asked him about it. But it seemed that he just wanted to bury his memories in a place where they would never come back.

And yes, when she thought about it, Lucifer completely alone was rare. If he wasn’t with her, he was with Linda or partying in his club. In the past he was with his sex partners, but he didn’t do that anymore because of her. He had often appeared in her apartment - before they moved in together - out of nowhere, claimed to be bored, but Chloe knew him. Knew that he was lonely, that he craved companionship after all those eons alone. Well, he had Maze and other demons, but that was something different. And she would never send him away. And when they had started their...thing, she noticed that he spent more and more time with her and Trixie in their apartment.

“Did you know - ” Amenadiel started again, interrupting her thoughts. “ - that angels are connected and could pray to each other?”

“Yes, Lucifer told me and I also assumed it, after I learned the truth. He was praying every time he wanted to contact you, before you fell.”

Amenadiel nodded. “Yeah, we can hear prayers as long as we are not fallen like I am, and we could also answer without being in the same place. Right after his fall, he prayed. He prayed to all of us, to Father, Mother, just to come down and get him, that he was sorry, that he would never disobey again, if he just could come back at home. We weren’t allowed to answer or visit him in the first eons. And no one did, because we didn’t want to end up like him. Lucifer ignored his pride and begged to be allowed to come back.“ Amenadiel gulped heavily and had to fight back tears. 

Chloe knew the body language of angels well enough by now. The way he hunched his shoulders, it looked weird to others but she knew that his invisible wings just drooped, ruffled and maybe hugged him in comfort.

“It’s not your fault -” 

“Yes it is - not only mine, but all of us. We didn’t do anything, we were even the ones who banished him. Nothing happened just because Eve ate the fruit, it was just Father’s wrath.”


	4. Banned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amenadiel played mindlessly with the little plastic sword in his empty glass.  
> “Sooo Lucifer is the reason for the extinction of the dinosaurs?”  
> The Angel nodded. “You could say so. Father wanted to get rid of them anyway because they were boring him, even though he kept some as birds. I don’t know anything about of Lucifer’s beginnings in hell. I don’t know if Maze does. But he made her, so I guess she should. I just know when he arrived there, there were only a few souls in hell. Humanity back then wasn’t that tainted like it is today, so it was lonely down there. There were the hellbeasts but they didn’t like him, they would flee because he still carried the divine light with him and they hate light. Hell back then was complete darkness. His light was the only one. And all the pain. I know he still feels it, although he would never admit it. But it hurts. Not as bad as then, but you know he hates the cold because it makes his burns and wounds ache more.”

“It’s all your fault, Samael! Your rebellion destroyed big parts of the garden, killed some of your siblings, and it will take a while till I can repair them so they can be back with the family!” God’s voice was not only angry, it was wrathful. Samael’s flaming sword lay in front of him. Broken. “It’s your fault that the humans will be on earth from now on, without our direct guidance to do things the right way.”

Samael wasn’t defeated. Not yet, not now. Inside yes, maybe. He didn’t know. But he wouldn’t show it. His whole posture was prideful, even arrogant, and his eyes were piercing into the ones of his father. “And since they need a place to be punished for the sins they will commit now without us, you will rule it.”

No...NO! Samael hated that part of his job, he didn’t want to, he knew his Father saw the horror in his eyes even if he tried to suppress it. 

“But Da - Father.” He gritted his teeth. 

“SILENCE!” God boomed again. “Amenadiel? Raziel? Hold him down.”

”What?!” He was restrained - he had always hated that, but he had no chance against his two brothers. The whole heavenly host watched him with disgust, fear, and sorrow.

“You, my son, will be banished from the Silver City for all of eternity, you will live in hell as long as we exist, guarding the souls you poisoned. See what YOU have done, my son.” 

He was chained with big heavy chains made especially for him, which hadn’t been needed till now. Samael couldn’t move but that wasn’t enough. He was dragged outside the gates to the edge of the City, followed by his family. His mother just watching. His siblings staring. 

“Amenadiel? break his wings.” The angel did, and the sound was one he would never forget. Nobody would. Not only the sound of breaking bones but the sound of pain Samael let out, his now useless wings hanging down his back.

“Michael?” His father ordered, “Do it.” Michael, the only angel with a smirk on his face. He never had gotten along with Samael, so this was a pleasure for him, one he would enjoy, a once in a lifetime opportunity. 

He drew his sword, first held at Samael's chin, forcing his younger brother to look him in the eyes. Samael growled, tried to avert his head. The sword drew blood from his chin. The first scar he would ever get. Michael grinned before he drove his sword with ease through Samael’s body. The Angel put a foot on his brother’s chest and pushed him over the edge to pull his sword free again.

Samael was screaming from pain, from his fall, from everything. His wings fluttered uselessly behind him as he fell, burned and crossed three planes of existence. 

He hit Earth with full force, causing a huge wave of fire and dust that would cover the sky for years, the death of Dad’s big reptiles, and preparing the earth for the rise of his humans before plunging in hell and lying there. There were no sounds around him except for his own pained screams.

 

 

* * *

 

Amenadiel played mindlessly with the little plastic sword in his empty glass.

“Sooo Lucifer is the reason for the extinction of the dinosaurs?” 

The Angel nodded. “You could say so. Father wanted to get rid of them anyway because they were boring him, even though he kept some as birds. I don’t know anything about of Lucifer’s beginnings in hell. I don’t know if Maze does. But he made her, so I guess she should. I just know when he arrived there, there were only a few souls in hell. Humanity back then wasn’t that tainted like it is today, so it was lonely down there. There were the hellbeasts but they didn’t like him, they would flee because he still carried the divine light with him and they hate light. Hell back then was complete darkness. His light was the only one. And all the pain. I know he still feels it, although he would never admit it. But it hurts. Not as bad as then, but you know he hates the cold because it makes his burns and wounds ache more.”

Chloe nodded. He avoided the cold as much as possible, wearing his suits even during the hottest days of the year. He didn’t mind, always told her that compared to hell this was a mild climate.

She looked down at her glass; the ice cubes in her cocktail had completely melted and watered down her drink. It was a lot to take in. She had learned more during that little talk with Amenadiel than she had ever hoped. She would never force Lucifer to talk about his past. It was clearly something he still had trouble dealing with. Linda once told her he was the worst case of PTSD she ever had met. 

And still...despite everything that had happened to him, he was still a gentle soul. Lucifer was playful like the eternal teenager he was, no matter how old his body looked. He was charming, had a big and soft heart - he would deny that - and was an amazing friend, a good man. Yes, he was also a punisher, a good one, a fallen angel with anger and giant daddy issues. But he tried to be better. He wasn’t the perfect boyfriend material, but every time Chloe woke up next to him, he had that smile on his face. Like she was the only thing in existence to him. She would never get tired of it. Sometimes in his sleep he would talk to her, ask her why she was still there and not running away, as if he couldn’t believe that she was still by his side. And if necessary she would spend the rest of her life proving to him that he was loved. That he deserved to be loved. And when she died? She didn’t want to think about it yet, but it would happen, maybe on duty, maybe as a 90 year old grandma. Lucifer panicked every time she brought that up. Clinging for dear life to her, trying to breathe. But when her time came, she already knew what she would do. She would give God a big piece of her mind, would confront him on being the biggest asshole dad in all of existence. She wanted to slap him in his face for breaking his son.

Yes, maybe she would end up in hell for that, but she knew the boss. And she would go voluntarily if necessary. It would be painful to never see Trixie again in the afterlife, but the thought of Lucifer alone, suffering back in hell for the rest of eternity...Nope, she wouldn’t think of this now. 

“Thanks, Amenadiel. You really helped me. I think I need to talk to Maze now. And don’t feel guilty about everything, you are a great brother. And he loves you, even if Lucifer has a weird way of showing it sometimes.” 

Amenadiel nodded, looking far more relaxed now. Chloe hugged him and instead of becoming stiff at first like Lucifer, he hugged her back.

“I have to thank you, for...for everything you do for him.”

And she just nodded, paid for her still half full drink and left the little cocktail bar.

It was time to find a demon.

 


	5. Pretty angel boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samael had always been able to hear them, talk with them through prayer, but now it was just...nothing. The silence in his head was frightening to the angel. He never felt so empty. The wet things continued to run over his cheeks, he couldn’t stop them and a sob escaped his throat. Samael felt lost, helpless, broken, like he was an insignificant speck of dust, and yet… nothing, he was just empty. He kept praying. Father surely heard him, just wanted to punish him a little before he was allowed back home, beautiful and healed, he was sure of it. Just a little punishment which Samael understood, and he would be the son Father always wanted him to be from now on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal thing on how Lucifer and Maze met. Hope you like it :D

Maze wasn’t hard to find. She was at LUX; after a good hunt the demon always loved to go there and have a drink, maybe also meet with Linda. Not today. Today the demon was sitting alone at the bar, nursing her cocktail and writing messages on her phone. Chloe would never say hearteyes about her expression, but yeah, totally hearteyes. So she guessed Maze was texting with Linda.

The detective sat down next to her and after some tribe talk, Chloe couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Can you tell me how you met Lucifer in hell?” 

“Why the sudden interest, Decker?” Maze raised her scarred eyebrow and Chloe sighed.

“Because Mister ‘I look perfect even after sex in the morning’ wouldn’t do it. I want to know more of his past. And everytime I ask him, I just get some short sentenced answers. Like it would hurt him to talk about.”   
“Well, maybe because it was painful in hell for him? Like all the time?”

 

* * *

  
  


How long had it been? He tried to move and if his voice wasn’t sore already he would have  screamed again. 

_ “Open your eyes Samael...just open them.”  _

It was tiring even trying, but he managed it. His whole body was in pain, so much that he didn’t have any words for it. He cracked his eyes open, remembered to breathe. Samael normally didn’t need to breathe, but his body was screaming desperately for air. Pain again. He took a deep breath and coughed; the air was hot, dry and he tasted ash on his tongue. He tried to see something. But his eyes were used to the lights of the Silver City - here it was just a dim glow. Barely noticeable. 

Wait... something was wrong. It shouldn’t have been that dark, he had his own celestial light with him. He tried to forget the pain for a moment and moved his wings as much as possible. Samael could feel how his muscles worked and the broken bones screamed at him, the limbs moved but there was something missing. He stretched the wings out and could see it in the corner of his eyes. Burned, all his feathers gone and just naked limbs. He could see where his brother has broken the bones, it looked weird and should have hurt more, but everything he could feel was agonizing. So his wings just felt useless at the moment, useless like him.

His eyes closed again. He was exhausted, the pain agonizing beyond imagination. Just a few minutes to rest was all Samael wished for. But then it hit him - the sight of his wings, something was wrong, and by that he didn’t mean the burned feathers. Again he forced his eyes open, still unable to move much as he looked at one of his arms in front of him. Was it his arm? It was raw, bleeding and skinless. Just muscles, tendons, burns and so much blood. The chains were gone, the heat of the fall seemed to have melted them away. No, that couldn’t be true. This was surely just a dream, a horrible nightmare.

It took - he didn’t know how long it took, but time was irrelevant for him anyway - it took a long time to push himself in a sitting position. He could feel the flesh on his body tear open because of the movements. He looked down again: bloody, red, angry, burned, monstrously ugly, repulsive. 

The fallen angel screamed again, not only because of pain but because of THIS.

“Father...please, you can’t do this to me! Please, I’ll be good. I’ll do as you ask, PLEASE! Get me out of here. I’m sorry!” He screamed himself hoarse at the sky that was so very different from his home, just a dim blue light, no stars - that sight horrified him. 

He wanted to see his stars. Samael was panting - the praying and begging alone was enough to exhaust him completely. But he wouldn’t give up. He continued praying, but his Father didn’t answer. Of course not. Something wet ran over his cheek, it left a burning sensation over the raw flesh. He didn’t know what that was. He had seen how humans did it when their beloved ones died, but why was he leaking? He touched the wet droplet and tilted his head in confusion. Was he broken? Samael didn’t understand it and continued praying to Father and to his siblings, still convinced they would come and get him- they were a family, after all.     
But he couldn’t hear them. 

Samael had always been able to hear them, talk with them through prayer, but now it was just...nothing. The silence in his head was frightening to the angel. He never felt so empty. The wet things continued to run over his cheeks, he couldn’t stop them and a sob escaped his throat. Samael felt lost, helpless, broken, like he was an insignificant speck of dust, and yet… nothing, he was just empty. He kept praying. Father surely heard him, just wanted to punish him a little before he was allowed back home, beautiful and healed, he was sure of it. Just a little punishment which Samael understood, and he would be the son Father always wanted him to be from now on. 

While he was praying, he also fought to stand up. He was in hell. The place where evil souls were banished. He knew there were quite a few and hell was getting more souls lately. 

It was still too dark to see; Samael tried to summon a tiny star that danced happily over the palm of his hand and it worked. He still had his power, that meant hope. Father would surely let him come back home since he let him keep his power. 

The angel threw the star into the sky to lighten the area, but it died as soon as it reached a certain height. So did the next one and the one after that. 

Samael was panting from exhaustion, his body screaming again at him for just existing. He fell down to his knees again, sending another wave of agony - from just touching the floor -  through him.

“He will let me come home. I just know it.” Samael tried to convince himself about that. He was still praying and begging for forgiveness. 

 

How much time had passed? He still didn’t know but he could feel something. Another angel? No, he could feel souls. Damned souls to be precise, the children of Lilith, or rather what was left of them after Dad sent their mother down here. They were desiring a body. HIS body, he could feel it. And if he wasn’t injured and exhausted to the point of fainting by just breathing, it wouldn’t have been a problem. But at the moment he couldn’t even raise an arm to defend himself. They would just possess him and there was nothing he could do. Samael knew the damned souls hungered for a body. They craved to feel, smell and have limbs to move again. The angel growled, trying to spread his wings in defense. It would have been successful if his wings were more than two naked and broken things. 

Samael needed to find a way to defend himself, didn’t want to be devoured by them. No. Another prayer to his Father and again the only answer was silence.

He prepared himself for the worst but suddenly there was something else next to him. Another soul. But this one was different. It was oozing with some sort of power. This one challenged the others. And they accepted. 

Samael wasn’t sure how that worked, but the special soul crashed into the others and they just somehow melted together. The soul that came to his rescue was changing, he could feel it. It was getting bigger and stronger. He tilted his head again, looking at it. One of his gifts was that he could see them - well, it was an important part of his death job. Souls looked to him like little clouds made out of dim light. And this one had some kind of purple glow to it.

“What are you doing here, pretty angel boy?”

The soul couldn’t speak, of course not, but he could hear its thoughts like it was speaking to him. The voice in his head was genderless but he imagined it as feminine.

“I’m not pretty.” For one moment his pain was forgotten; he was just fascinated and his hand ran through the little cloud only he could see.

“Well I think you are pretty, little angel.”


	6. Touch starved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe shuddered again. She knew he was still in pain, he mentioned it once and she noticed it occasionally. When it was too cold for him, his movements were stiff. Not noticeable to others, but to her. And cold was a relative term for him. He was used to the fires of hell. Everything below 70F was cold to him.  
> But how much pain was it? A dull ache? Still like fresh? Damn it, why didn’t he want to talk about it at all? He was still afraid that she would run. Every time they argued - not their normal bickering, more the “You can’t let Trixie watch horror movies and offer her alcohol” type of arguing- he had this look in his eyes. Haunted, like she would banish him from her life because he made a mistake, because he was not perfect.

“That’s how you met him?” Chloe was amazed. She often imagined how Lucifer landed in hell, she knew how badly injured he had been- still was. She had seen it so often now, even if he didn’t like to show her. Sometimes they argued about it, because it was obvious that letting go of his glamour and having his wings out was relaxing for him, not having to think about masking himself as a human and just enjoy life. But he always insisted that he didn’t need to disgust her or the spawn, even if they both knew him.

Maze next to her nodded while she picked up the toothpick with a cherry on it from her drink and ate the fruit in a definitely R-rated way.

“He really is pretty, you know? You humans and your beauty ideals are nothing to us demons. His glamour is just boring and I love seeing his real face.” An inhuman grin spread across her face as she looked in Chloe’s puzzled face.    
“Why I didn’t possess him? Easy, I was bored. I was devouring soul after soul and becoming stronger. It would have been too easy and besides, he was the first angel I’d ever seen. He may have collected my soul at one point, but we all don’t remember our previous lives. I’m the daughter of Lilith, I was born human but killed when those feathered idiots threw us out of heaven. Hell destroys you and make you into something new.”

Chloe nodded at that. She didn’t understand everything, but also didn’t want to ask again. 

“And he made you a body?”

 

* * *

 

Pain, pain, pain. Every moment awake now was pure pain. How long had he been here? He didn’t know anymore, but he still asked himself daily...? Weekly? Time moved differently down here, there was no day or night. No weather, every single day looked the same. Just one, endless day.

The endless prayers to his Father and his siblings had stopped long ago. Nobody would free him. Samael’s wounds were healed as well as his body could manage but he still looked like a freshly skinned corpse. There was still blood oozing out of some smaller wounds that would close up in the next few centuries, or his injuries would crack open again if he moved too much and in the wrong way. He was sure of it. The only skin on his body was on his wings, protected by a cocoon of feathers that would start to grow in again after the skin had healed. He was sure of this, as well.

The little soul never left his side. He called her Mazikeen and she was his only company. Samael longed for more, but he didn’t admit it. He changed over time, from the angel he once had been to something else, to a being that hid his emotions and everything else deep inside of him. Only Mazikeen was allowed to see the other side, sometimes.

Weakness in hell meant death. It didn’t take long for Samael to notice that. So he gathered himself, fighting alongside his little soul to be the ruler of this realm. He started to put the free roaming souls in those cells after he discovered their use. 

The former angel learned how to survive, to use his constant pain to his advantage. 

 

That bloody ash. He hated it so much, it made his nonexistent skin burn.

He swiped some ash off his shoulders. He could do it. He made the stars, so he could also manage that, couldn’t he? Samael stood in the center of hell which was dark and silent, sending shudders along his spine and making his wings tremble. He was the ruler of this place, that meant he could use the energy and the power of this place to change it. At least a little - he couldn’t make the Silver City out of hell or change the cells, but he could create a giant forge. He had watched Dad often enough to know how to do it. It would be just slightly different down here.

He concentrated, accessed his lightbringer power inside of him and formed two massive stars on each palm of his hand. He knew they wouldn’t live long in the sky of hell, but this time he threw them inside one of the gigantic furnaces.

“You’ll see, Mazikeen. I will succeed and soon you can walk next to me.” He nodded to himself before he started working. It took a few tries. Hell didn’t offer any materials like his home. He had to improvise, but he was sick and tired of being alone. The hellbeasts he once found hidden in the depth of hell had made it clear that they wanted to be left alone. So Samael simply made his own company. He forged his first demon - well more a body for his little soul. She was more than satisfied; an empty body, just for her, beautifully made by his own hands. It had been so long since she had her own body. She had forgotten the feel of it and as soon as she opened her eyes, because now she had eyes, she touched her face. Her beautiful face, exactly how she wanted it to be. She had asked Samael for the rotten part. Her pretty angel boy as she always called him, the one who sat exhausted next to the forge, smiled.

Mazikeen kneeled in front of him and slowly raised her hand to touch him. The angel flinched - he wasn’t used to touches anymore, and then there was the constant pain. But his desire to feel another living - well some sort of living - being won and he leaned into her touch.

He wasn’t alone anymore. He had missed this feeling for so long. Maybe she was just a soul, a demon, as he would call her species, but she was company. He couldn’t keep the tears in - they ran over his face and a sob escaped him.

Samael wouldn’t even have minded if she killed him now. He wouldn’t fight it, her touch alone would be worth it. But she did not. She just touched his body, feeling the scars, his muscles, the bone that was showing on some places.

He still felt the pain, but it was eased by her touch.

 

* * *

 

“He cried, Decker, the devil cried because he made me a body.” Maze shook her head; of course she couldn’t remember everything in her immortal life, but that was one of the moments nobody would ever take from her. 

“It was pathetic, but also beautiful in its own way.”

Chloe shuddered again. She knew he was still in pain, he mentioned it once and she noticed it occasionally. When it was too cold for him, his movements were stiff. Not noticeable to others, but to her. And cold was a relative term for him. He was used to the fires of hell. Everything below 70F was cold to him.

But how much pain was it? A dull ache? Still like fresh? Damn it, why didn’t he want to talk about it at all? He was still afraid that she would run. Every time they argued - not their normal bickering, more the “You can’t let Trixie watch horror movies and offer her alcohol” type of arguing- he had this look in his eyes. Haunted, like she would banish him from her life because he made a mistake, because he was not perfect. And she really had to fight her tears every time. His father...god, she still had to get used to that...really did a number on him. God broke his son, his teenage son, because he wanted to be free. She guessed that he had been the equivalent of a human teenager when he was banished.

“Decker? Hey Decker, talk to me, please don’t do that crying thing on me. I’m still not used to the human emotions stuff. Although I’m getting better at it. At least Linda said so.” Maze smiled so proudly about that, it made Chloe giggle.

“Yes, you are getting better at it. If you now would stop throwing away dirty dishes and giving Trixie that sugary stuff in the morning when you visit us, everything would be all right.”

Maze glared at her. “The commercials say that kids love it, so why shouldn’t she have it?”   
“She can have it once in a while, Maze, but not every day. It’s enough to deal with a sugar high Lucifer…” Because of course he lived on sugar. “... I don’t need an additional sugar high daughter.”   
Maze couldn’t understand it, but at least she was trying and maybe someday she would get it. Lucifer understood after the doll incident. He had a hard time getting that concept but he accepted Chloe’s boundaries. 

“You have to take care of those you love. Don’t look at me like that, Maze. I know you were really close in hell and I’m sure you cared for him and his needs.”


	7. Party tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay fine, please be gentle.” Normally he wouldn’t have said that, but this was Maze and she was a lot of things, but not really gentle. He sat down on his bed, presenting her with his back and his spread wings. The demon could easily kill him now with her new knives -   
> knives he had forged out of the first crooked feathers he had plucked out of his wings, full of power. But she would never betray him like that. And even if she tried, Samael looked young and was emotional, but he was trained by the best fighters in his home; he could fight and he could defend himself. Maze reached out to touch one of his wings; it shivered and trembled under her fingers. The skin looked angry from the scratching and the ash stuck on his skin.

“Oh bloody hell!” Samael was always cranky in the last few days, but Maze didn’t get why. He had made her a body; he made other souls bodies too, although not all looked as beautiful as Maze. Some had horns, others had four legs or two heads. Samael was trying everything he could imagine. It kept him busy and he felt less lonely, even though he could feel how the souls inside the bodies shattered, they were corrupted, became something else, and the souls themselves died. He created the first demons. Twisted creatures, soulless but alive, intelligent, vicious. But what had he expected from the evil within? They weren’t banished here because they were nice. No. Soon he showed them how to make bodies and they were allowed to create other demons. Of course not as strong as Mazikeen or himself - he would never allow that. 

 

Those creatures were not company or family, they had no emotions, they obeyed him, but that was it. Maze was the only one he trusted and talked to.

But she couldn’t understand him. Samael was in a bad mood for days now. 

He made himself some kind of home - a castle. It was the mirror image of his old home, where he grew up with his siblings. His bedroom was the same room he had in the Silver city. He was homesick; he would never tell his demon about this, but she could hear him. Sometimes he would sit on his bed and still pray - not to his Father, never to him - calling for his siblings, but nobody came. And he would walk aimlessly around, bored out of his mind, humming strange sounds, music and melodies as he called it.

But not lately. His cursing got her attention. She stopped fighting a lower demon by ending him without batting an eye before she followed the cursing. Samael was rubbing against the stone wall. He didn’t notice her and Maze just watched.

His feathers still grew in, the pin feathers mostly gone, but they were still growing and they looked bad. Some of the new feathers were already broken or crooked. He rubbed again before bending his wing toward him and trying to straighten the feathers. In times like these, he looked like the teenager he still was. He was the most powerful being in this realm, but at the moment he was a lost boy silently suffering and sobbing because he couldn’t get his feathers right and clean. She knew the ash between his pin feathers itched and that he couldn’t reach everything. There was no water in hell so he couldn’t take a bath to ease the itching. But now? The bigger those feathers got, the more difficulties he had to keep them clean and straight. And his wounds were still not fully healed - the scar tissue broke open again and he started bleeding on his wings. 

Samael tried furiously to rub the blood off his pinion, destroying it with his brute force. He missed his home. He didn’t miss his parents who banished him, or Michael and Amenadiel who betrayed him. He missed Gabriel and Raphael, even little and annoying Uriel. Or Sachiel. All of them. Yes, they stood there, did nothing while he was tossed out of his home, but he still missed them. He wanted nothing more than to be with them, to feel their hands on his wings to groom and soothe him. No one answered his prayers. He knew they could hear him, because he still felt that connection. Exhausted and broken, he slid down the wall, pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, before his wings followed his movement and wrapped around his body like a cocoon. Not very effective in that state.

Any feeling being would have felt something other than annoyance, but Maze was a demon. “Hey, Samael-” She would have called him angel boy, but last time she did, he became angry and she could still feel the pain - even as a teenager he was so much more powerful than her. “Need help?” 

He lowered his wings, watching her come closer. The angel had to think about it. Grooming his wings was something intimate, but there was nobody else. And if he was honest with himself, he preferred Maze more than one of the others - he’d had to fight them already because they questioned his status as their ruler;  they were not as strong as him but they were many - or rubbing himself against a wall. He couldn’t show weakness to the other demons, but Maze was different. Their bond was something special.

Samael nodded, stood up again and led her to his room. 

“Okay fine, please be gentle.” Normally he wouldn’t have said that, but this was Maze and she was a lot of things, but not really gentle. He sat down on his bed, presenting her with his back and his spread wings. The demon could easily kill him now with her new knives - 

knives he had forged out of the first crooked feathers he had plucked out of his wings, full of power. But she would never betray him like that. And even if she tried, Samael looked young and was emotional, but he was trained by the best fighters in his home; he could fight and he could defend himself. Maze reached out to touch one of his wings; it shivered and trembled under her fingers. The skin looked angry from the scratching and the ash stuck on his skin. Samael pulled one of his wings forward and showed her how to treat the feathers, align them, pluck the ones that were too crooked or broken already, and treat the ones that started to look off, but were still able to recover from the lack of grooming.

Maze groomed him, more careful than she imagined she could be. Samael burned the plucked feather with a snap of his fingers. They were too powerful to risk them in another demon's hand. She even freed him from the ash as much as possible. And the angel? He relaxed and purred, making that sound that Chloe would find so adorable and beautiful eons later.

 

* * *

  
  
“I laughed at him for that, teased him. It was the first and last time I ever heard it and the last time he was so relaxed when I took care of his wings.” Maze stared into nothing with a sad smile. Chloe could see a hint of some deeper emotions behind her mask. She didn’t ask.

“That means you were the only one in hell who was allowed to touch his wings?”    
Maze nodded with a smile. “Yes, after a few grooming sessions, it even aroused him when I touched them.” Her expression matched her sultry voice and she made that ridiculous movement with her tongue. The one Chloe forbade Maze to teach Trixie. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Decker - he had seen sex between humans, he just never had it. So we showed each other, learning new tricks and movements from new souls coming into hell. We watched some of them in their cells, learning everything about it and trying it. Angel wings are really sensitive. When I popped Amenadiel’s cherry, his wings came out and they broke my car windows. It was cute and hilarious. As for Lucifer...I guess sex for him was comforting. It was the only kind of emotional bond he had in hell.”   
It made sense. Lucifer needed sex, especially when he was distressed or just really emotional about something. It was his coping mechanism, and something that always worked in hell. It meant a lot to him. She would never forget his devastated look after the interrogation of the 92 lovers he had. Just a good shag...nothing more. 

“Did he have to fight a lot against other demons?” Chloe had seen him fight and it was frightening, especially when criminals tended to underestimate the guy in his bespoke suit. He could manhandle even martial arts experts without a problem. His fighting style reminded her of an MMA fighter, while Maze’s was more Silat. 

But she didn’t doubt for even a second that both of them could fight in a lot of styles. She had seen Lucifer sparring once with his brother in a fighting style she had never seen before. It was the one of the Angels, and it looked way more impressive if wings were used, Lucifer told her. The demon nodded again, grinning. 

“Oooh, yes. It was awesome. Demons were soon challenging Lucifer over his throne. They were no challenge for him most of the time, but even if they were physically stronger than him, he could just burn them to nothing. After he recovered from his injuries, his powers were as strong as in heaven. He is an Archangel, Chloe. More powerful than others, second only to his Father and on the same level as the other archangels.”

She had never seen those lightbringer powers, other than a small party trick to entertain Trixie. He formed a little star that danced a little on his palm and let it vanish again. That thing was not bigger than a golf ball, but it radiated pure power and heat.

And he had just sat there, Satan himself with his ridiculous cute smile in her living room, on her couch, doing party tricks for her daughter. That ancient being looked so happy at those moments. 

Chloe smiled at that memory. She made the fallen angel happy, something nobody else could achieve, even if he drove her insane sometimes. Especially on cases when drugs were involved. She knew he loved drugs. She never asked why and he had the decency not to take them in front of her or show her his secret stash. 

Not that she would arrest him, but she didn’t want to know about it either. Maybe someday, he would stop. Maybe when he could finally open up emotionally to her instead of bottling it. His excesses were rare; only when Trixie was with Dan and she had to work late without him - of course mostly paperwork days - did he do drugs.

“Maze?” The demon just answered with a raised eyebrow. “Lucifer was nearly innocent when he arrived, wasn’t he?” She nodded. 

“You could say that. Why?”   
The detective sighed again. “Well, when did...why did he start punishing the evil and guilty souls?”   
“He was bored and angry. Yes, it was that simple.”


	8. Lightbringer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know…” the demon started again. “I was born to torture, to bring pain. I didn’t mind at all and I didn’t know anything else… but him? It destroyed him. He was so young back then, so innocent. His soul was bright like the sun. And over the eons it became tainted. He hated the things he had to do. The torture, the fights with demons. Sometimes he went into the cells and watched the humans. Just to get a glimpse of their life, to pretend for one moment he could be out of hell. To hear some music...music. He didn’t have any instrument down there, but sometimes he hummed and sang. Not in front of the other demons, but in front of me. It was beautiful, even I could see that. No, hell is for the guilty and the evil. He is neither. But he is strong. Every other angel, Amenadiel for example, would have been corrupted over the eons. They would have become insane, evil, twisted. But not Lucifer. He stayed strong, merciless, but still the angel he once was. He earned my loyalty instead of simply demanding it. This is something I respect and for that I would never betray him.” Maze smiled at her memories. And Chloe nodded. Lucifer never talked that much about his past in hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Random fact: I just burned a big part of my left hand with hot glue.   
> I thought you should know that.  
> Damn you hot glue and comission work :D
> 
> However Have fun, I quit whining now

Samael paced, like he did very often recently. There was not much to kill time in hell. Yes, Mazikeen and he discovered sex. It felt pleasant, it felt close and they shared a good shag as often as possible. Samael also shared his bed with other demons, but she was the only one allowed to touch his wings. But even the angel couldn’t have sex all the time. 

Everything was boring, especially fighting, nobody was a match for him, except for Mazikeen, and their sparring sessions always ended in sex again. 

He had explored hell, he knew every little corner in that Dad forsaken place. He even tried to befriend the hellbeasts. Shy creatures that hid as soon as they could sense him. The only native life in hell, after all. He let them live in peace and just watched them from afar from time to time.

He had lost count of time long ago, his wounds were visible and they looked fresh, but they were  _ healed.  _ The pain was his permanent companion by now. 

He got used to the silence in his head. Samael had stopped praying at least an eon ago. 

But boredom - Boredom was the worst for him. If you are immortal, passing time becomes essential. 

Again he walked through the hallways, for he could enter and leave cells as he wished. Their inhabitants couldn’t. We’ll they could, the doors weren’t locked, but none of them ever did.

He had a special weak spot for parents that abused their children, abandoned them. Samael liked to watch their punishment. But that bored him also, after a while. It was the same punishment over and over again. 

 

“You should distract yourself, Angel boy.” Maze nibbled on his earlobe and he just took a step back.

“I’m not in the mood, Mazikeen, and how often do I need to remind you not to call me that?”

His feathers ruffled in annoyance - something Maze always giggled at.

“Yes, yes, I know you are bored again. Nothing new here, Samael. You know you could join me.”    
“I’m not a torturer, Maze, I won’t do what my Father wants. I told you that.”   
The demon smirked. “Oooh, but you would love it, in that case. And as you told me, your Father banished you here. Maybe it wasn’t his intention for you to rule this place. And maybe he would hate it if you punish the guilty.”   
He thought about that for a few minutes - maybe she was right. “Okay, maybe I just could have a look at that soul. But I promise nothing.”   
“More than enough. Now come.” She led the way to one of the cells. There were souls that were entirely evil but didn’t feel any guilt for their sins. And those were the ones Mazikeen and her fellow demons had the most fun with. Torturing them for the rest of eternity. She loved it. The blood, the entrails, the screams and all the pain.

Samael was already used to all of that. Hell wasn’t a clean place. He ruffled his wings, flexed them a little to get rid of some of the ash on them and rearranged them comfortably against his back as he entered the cell. He could smell the evil within this place.   
“So what had he done?” Samael didn’t even look at Maze; his eyes were glued to the man in the chains, dripping blood. Of course, he could find out easily himself, but he didn't want to.

“Oh, he abandoned his son-” Maze looked at him; she could read him like a book. His body was tensing, the wings trembling, not much, just enough for her to notice. “He framed him for his own crimes and killed his son in the end - well he pushed him to suicide by abandoning him in his time of need. And he is feeling absolutely no guilt about it.”    
Samael’s eyes burned even brighter than normal.

“Oh, I knew this one would be interesting for you. Do it.” Maze stood next to him, handing her curved knife over to her Lord. No soul could die in hell, not permanently, but they could suffer and when they died, they would be back in their cells after just a few moments. 

 

* * *

 

“Eeeew, okay fine, Maze, stop right here. I don’t need any more graphic details.” 

Maze just shrugged and sipped her drink. Chloe did the same.

“You know…” the demon started again. “I was born to torture, to bring pain. I didn’t mind at all and I didn’t know anything else… but him? It destroyed him. He was so young back then, so innocent. His soul was bright like the sun. And over the eons it became tainted. He hated the things he had to do. The torture, the fights with demons. Sometimes he went into the cells and watched the humans. Just to get a glimpse of their life, to pretend for one moment he could be out of hell. To hear some music...music. He didn’t have any instrument down there, but sometimes he hummed and sang. Not in front of the other demons, but in front of me. It was beautiful, even I could see that. No, hell is for the guilty and the evil. He is neither. But he is strong. Every other angel, Amenadiel for example, would have been corrupted over the eons. They would have become insane, evil, twisted. But not Lucifer. He stayed strong, merciless, but still the angel he once was. He earned my loyalty instead of simply demanding it. This is something I respect and for that I would never betray him.” Maze smiled at her memories. And Chloe nodded. Lucifer never talked that much about his past in hell. 

He avoided every answer as much as possible and it didn’t surprise her. Lucifer had been kind of a hostage down there longer than she could ever imagine. 

And yes, he was topside now for nearly 8 years, but for an immortal being it was nothing. The wounds were still fresh.

Time meant nothing to him.

There was that thought again, the second time today, which have been hidden in the faaaar back of her mind. And of course it was in Lucifer’s mind too.

“Maze?””

“Hmmm?”

“He won’t tell me when I ask. You don’t have to answer if he forbids it or if you feel uncomfortable…”

“Spit it out already, Decker!”

“He wasn’t always Lucifer, I know he was Samael before. Why did he change his name?”

Maze looked a moment into her empty glass, like it would offer some answers.

“The same reason he cut off his wings the first time. To flip the bird to his father. Every time someone called him that, he was reminded of home, of better times. And of the love he didn’t have anymore. And since he is the embodiment of light, he started to call himself Lucifer. I think he got the idea from the trapped humans. His wings were shining bright in the depths of hell and they came up with Lucifer, Light-bringer, or back then, carrier of the precious light he had on his back the whole time. And instead of Venom of God, he was now The Lightbringer - doesn’t that sound so much better?”

Maze smiled; remembering the old times always made her a little sentimental, even if she was thankful now for Lucifer leaving hell, because without him, she would have never met Linda. She wouldn’t be happy the way she was now.

Chloe nodded. “Yeah, it makes sense. And it is more beautiful than the old one.”

She liked the name Lucifer much more than Samael. Sometimes she called him Luce, even if it annoyed him. She was sure that deep inside he liked it. Like his brother calling him Luci. Something really cute.

And if she was honest with herself, she loved to annoy him. His pouting face was adorable, and when he had his wings out and they were puffing it was even more so. 

Big Old Scratch looking offended like a three year old was something you didn’t see every day. 

Chloe got up from the stool. 

“I have to go, you know how he is when I’m late on a grooming day.” Chloe chuckled; he always acted like he would die then. Or like all his feathers would fall out at once, the moment she was late. 

Pretty vain for someone who cut them off over and over again and didn’t want to have them in the beginning when they grew back.


	9. Family visits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, that didn’t mean he would never do that again. Penelope got a pretty good view of the naked Devil, as well as Dan and his parents. The thought alone made her blush and furious at the same time, especially since she couldn’t get his smug grin out of her head.  
> And another point for the penthouse was the space - Lucifer wasn’t a normal human, he needs room to stretch his wings, to bathe and shower them, to flap and groom them. In the beginning they tried it a few times in her apartment. Never worked well and was a giant mess in an enclosed space. Her whole bathroom flooded when he tried to take a shower, and one of her bookshelves was knocked over after his wings popped out when she kissed him.   
> And she liked it in his penthouse too - the view was spectacular, it was a safe area, and nobody would steal from Lucifer anyway.  
> Lucifer was sleeping in the sun, his wings spread out. She was used to that by now, but it would never stop to amaze her. Her hand stroked the arch of his wing, which shivered under her touch.  
> “Wake up, fearsome Prince of Fluffiness, I’m home.”

Cutting off his wings ended the moment he revealed himself and Chloe touched them.

A feeling she would never forget. The soft down, the hard and rough pinions, his shallow breathing. The trembling and tensing at first - the relaxation that followed. 

The day that changed her life. No, not only hers, also his and that of her daughter. He had risked getting rejected to save Trixie’s life without any hesitation. 

Sometimes at night she could still hear the screeching tires of that car, her monkey’s scream and that terrible sound as the car hit her body. 

They were coming back from the movies and of course Lucifer had to tag along. Before she realised what had happened, Lucifer was already at Trixie’s side. There was a big, nasty wound on her head, she was bleeding heavily and unconscious. 

Lucifer kneeled next to her and suddenly, with a rustling sound, she saw them. Two huge, white, glowing wings. 

He plucked a feather out of them like it was nothing, and pressed it onto Trixie’s wound. That tiny, white thing started to glow, vanished and suddenly the wound was gone. She was still passed out, but not hurt anymore. 

Chloe never heard how the driver of the car left the scene, but she knew that he turned himself in later, as a gibbering mess.

 

And whenever Chloe had that dream and she woke up, she just had to look on the other side of bed where the two wings were covering her, or the devil alone, like a cocoon. He had tried to sleep with them tucked in a few times, but they always came out at night and mostly slapped Chloe in the face or shoved her off the bed. So it was better to keep them out.

 

She went to Lucifer’s home - no... their home. When Maze moved in with Linda, Chloe and Trixie needed a place to stay. Lucifer offered his home without hesitation. 

Most people would say a penthouse above a nightclub was not appropriate for a child, but not her. Lucifer and Trixie renovated one of his guest rooms together, so she had it like she wished. Another room was only for Chloe and her stuff. He also got doors for their rooms and the bathroom. Lucifer hated doors, too much a reminder of hell. And he didn’t walk around naked anymore when Trixie was at home. 

Well, that didn’t mean he would never do that again. Penelope got a pretty good view of the naked Devil, as well as Dan and his parents. The thought alone made her blush and furious at the same time, especially since she couldn’t get his smug grin out of her head.

And another point for the penthouse was the space - Lucifer wasn’t a normal human, he needs room to stretch his wings, to bathe and shower them, to flap and groom them. In the beginning they tried it a few times in her apartment. Never worked well and was a giant mess in an enclosed space. Her whole bathroom flooded when he tried to take a shower, and one of her bookshelves was knocked over after his wings popped out when she kissed him.    
And she liked it in his penthouse too - the view was spectacular, it was a safe area, and nobody would steal from Lucifer anyway.

 

Lucifer was sleeping in the sun, his wings spread out. She was used to that by now, but it would never stop to amaze her. Her hand stroked the arch of his wing, which shivered under her touch.

“Wake up, fearsome Prince of Fluffiness, I’m home.”    
Nothing. Chloe smiled, sighed and pulled a chair to her so she could sit down and start grooming his wings. It was a pleasurable routine by now. Removing broken or dull feathers - she learned that those were old ones that would be replaced anyway, but this would be a faster way - and aligning the good ones. 

Lucifer stirred after a few moments and mumbled something “ Gehleholoax.” it was Enochian. He did that sometimes in that state between sleep and waking up. Chloe loved it, although she never understood what he said and most times he forgot it when he was fully awake. 

“Hey, sleepyhead.” She smiled and placed a kiss between his shoulder blades and as a reaction his wings spread to their full impressive wingspan.

“‘ ‘bout time,” he murmured drowsily while she buried her fingers in the feathers to scratch the warm skin beneath them. 

“Sorry I’m late Luce, but taking a nap? You could have made yourself useful.” She loved teasing him a little, especially because he hated house chores.

“Not my fault when your business with Amenadiel took that long and I got tired of waiting, love.” He turned his head to her and smiled. “Did you have fun? You are terrifyingly sober for someone who wanted to have fun. My brother is really boring, I feel so sorry for him.”

“Oh it was fun, not everything fun-related needs to end with being drunk, Lucifer.”   
“Boooooring.” He purred and Chloe slapped his shoulder.

“No, it was not. I had fun, and I met with Maze afterwards.”   
“And still, you are sober. Maze is getting weak.”   
“Oh stop it, silly.” Chloe loved her devil-man-child so much. He could make her laugh all the time. And she just loved how he purred under her touch. Simple wing grooming was something he hadn’t gotten in hell. That was something she now knew.    
“We talked a lot about you, actually.”   
The Devil raised an eyebrow.

“Oh nothing serious, just over the things you refuse to talk about.”   
And that made him pout. 

“And learn anything new, Detective?”

“You know I’m not a Detective anymore, but yes, a lot actually, like you tripping over your wings.”   
“Okay...Sergeant...nope Detective it is, sounds way better. And Amenadiel, that bloody wanker. I’m going to kill him. This is humiliating.”   
Chloe laughed at his puffing wings, it was just cute.

“It’s okay, you just won’t tell me anything so I need to get the information otherwise.”   
“Very well...you can ask me anything, what do you want to know, love?”   
“I know it’s hard, but did your siblings visit you in hell?”

 

* * *

 

Lucifer was miserable like always at that time of the year. And like most times he was hiding in his room, which was a mess. Feathers everywhere. The lord of hell scrubbing his back against a stone pillar to get rid of old feathers and the itching. It was pure pain, even millennia later he still wasn’t used to it. Molting was always painful for him. Too many bad molts and now his wings were an ungroomed mess. He just couldn’t reach most of the feathers. But he had nobody. Yes, he could ask Maze and she tried, but it was just not the same as with his siblings who knew how hard to pull or how to align feathers, and over the eons she got too impatient for his molting seasons. 

It was not pleasant at all. Demons were just not made for delicate work like that. Yeah….delicate, that’s why he was rubbing himself raw. 

He plucked one of the old feathers he could reach and looked at it. Anger rose in him because of the blood stains. He stopped oozing blood all the time, but especially his fingers were sensitive and ripped open every time he touched something too hard or pointy. It was frustrating.

“Am I interrupting something?” 

Michael...Lucifer growled deep and turned around, trying to hide how his appearance surprised him.

“You look pathetic, little brother.” His own wings shone in all their golden glory. Yes, he also was going through that mess, but it was obvious that he had his family to help him.

“What do you want? Is this your centennial visit to look after your little brother? Sorry, if you had prayed before, I would have prepared something to eat, like ash...or ash? And some more ash.“

Lucifer snarled. His wings puffed, not impressive at all with the few feathers he had left. Damn, he missed food, he didn’t need it to survive, but he missed it. There was none in hell. And Michael, that bastard, had the nerve to bite into an apple in front of him.

Lucifer’s insides protested at that sight and smell.

He missed tasting something, feeling something other than the pain of his body and itching of his wings, and he missed music so much. Everything in hell was dull, dead, no joy, even for the king of this realm. Sex didn’t count, it was fun but not fulfilling.  

Lucifer fought to keep his face straight, while Michael took another bite.

“Oh, just call it brotherly love. I want to see how you’re doing. You know. We have to make sure you are staying right where you belong. You see, our siblings that visited you over the years told me some demons are muttering something about leaving hell. Oh, don’t try it, Samael.” Michael could see how the burning in his brother’s eyes got more intense at that. “I mean, look at you - humans may not be the most intelligent creatures in Father's creation, but they are not stupid either. You, once the most beautiful of all angels, are nothing more than the monster you look like. Never forget that.”

Michael threw the apple core at Lucifer’s head and with a rustling of feathers, that prick was gone again. Lucifer slumped down. He hated it. A few millennia after he was here, at the time he finally had full reign over hell, his siblings started to visit him. Not to help him with grooming. Not a single one offered, but Michael was the first who made fun of him. No, more like judged him. His siblings had no friendly words for him. Sometimes - if he was honest to himself - he still prayed to them, even to his dad, if he could come home finally. He had learned his lesson long ago. But no. When he never got an answer, his wrath and hurt grew. 

At the first visit - well, not a real visit -  of his siblings, Gabriel and Puriel brought his mother, who was also damned to hell. But after that? Yes, they came to check on him, but if they talked to him at all it was mostly accusations about how it all was his fault. Or they just were there for a few minutes then vanished again. Maybe he even imagined them sometimes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gehleholoax - You are shining


	10. Leaving hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first time they had sex was shortly after his reveal. And his wings unfurled with such an intense force that they punched a hole in her wall and shattered the window on the other side, as soon as she touched his back.  
> If Chloe was honest with herself, she was turned on by this sight. Especially during his climax, his wings spread out, the room too small for them so they pressed against the wall, his eyes glowing and his glamour dropping for just a few seconds.  
> That was a first timer for the Devil, and yes, she was very proud of it. Lucifer was ashamed at first, but after she kissed his glamourless form and assured him that it was fine, he relaxed. Since then they sometimes even had sex when he was in this form.   
> “Hey, still awake?” It was several minutes and he hadn’t answered her questions.  
> “Hmmmm…” Okay, nearly asleep, he was adorable when he was drowsy like that. She had to kiss his nape and he shuddered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have fun with the last chapter. The ending was written before the last episode so the reason he left hell for good is different. I didn't want to rewrite it

“Oh…” was all Chloe could answer to Lucifer’s description of hell. She knew how lonely Lucifer was and still felt from time to time. She knew how touch starved he was, but it wasn’t a surprise when she thought of his time in hell. Only fighting against others and rough sex with Maze to have at least some kind of emotional connection. But that was not affection. No, more to muffle the screams of hell and the void inside.

Chloe continued grooming his wing. She loved his reaction to that, the purring was adorable and he looked so relaxed and much younger. 

And how could his own brother call him a monster? Yes, his true form was terrifying at the beginning, but not for long - except to sinners maybe - for he was hurt and still in pain. Chloe knew that he hated it. Lucifer didn’t want to scare her and even after all this time he was still insecure about showing his burned self. But she didn’t mind. In fact, she liked that side of him. Yes, her handsome Devil was amazing, but his burned side was animalistic and vulnerable at the same time. It was special. 

Sometimes he changed in his sleep, and then she always woke up, because he was so much warmer in this form that she started to get warm. She learned that he had to concentrate all the time to hold his glamour in place, even when he was asleep. And since she told him that it would be okay to change, he did and then his sleep was so much more peaceful. She watched him for hours in that form, recognizing every scar, every feature that she already knew in his human form. And every time she asked herself if he was really alright.

“It’s fine, my love. It was a long time ago.”

_ But it still hurts _ was something he didn’t add. 

When she plucked the little feathers between his shoulder blades, he shuddered and his wings ruffled like they were offended. 

“Your glamour, this is something angels don’t do normally - how did you learn it? And why?”

She could remember how Amenadiel told her once that glamour wasn’t the same as hiding the wings in another plane. 

 

* * *

 

“Show me, Mazikeen!” Lucifer snarled in her direction, frustrated. The demon sat on his throne, and the fallen angel didn’t mind. Maze was allowed to do this, that thing wasn’t comfortable at all.

“I did, Lucifer, but this is infernal, you are divine. I’m sure you are not able to learn it.”

And once again his beautiful demon changed her face into that of a plain human. 

Over the last eons he found beauty in her real face. Something he still couldn’t find in his own burned skin. It still hurt, horribly in fact, but at least he didn’t bleed anymore. 

“I don’t care if it’s infernal, I will learn how that works.” 

He went to earth once, searching for a damned soul that his sister forgot to collect. And all he got were screams, prayers to his Dad and pain. Those stupid villagers tried to exorcise him with crosses and holy water...HIM! He wasn’t a bloody vampire. They hid in the church, but again, he wasn’t a vampire. He just wanted to protect those stupid humans, but they didn’t answer even one of his questions. It was annoying. And when the exorcism didn’t work, they threw stones at him and tried to burn him with torches...Again, HIM! 

How stupid. But he was also curious, last time on earth was shortly after Rome fell. Caesar had talked a lot about the world.

But not again, he couldn’t go up there looking like this. He may bury his emotions deep inside him, but the looks he got from the tortured souls alone killed him a little inside each time.

So this time, he would go prepared.

Carefully he watched his demon change back and forth again. He sensed how this kind of magic worked. He was divine, that was true, but he was also ruler of the infernal plane. So he dipped into his source of energy and pulled it out. And after a few tries it worked, well partially - he could cover his face and parts of his chest with his old handsome face. He wept and cried as he saw himself in the mirror. Touched his face desperately - no scars, not so much pain through touching, stubble, his formerly hated curly hair. 

Oh, how he had missed it. It only lasted a few minutes till his concentration was gone, but it was enough to encourage him. 

He practiced a lot and tried to extend his glamour while holding it longer. 

The first trip to earth with his glamour was in medieval times. He hid his wings, and just in case, wore some of the weird things called gloves, because he couldn’t cast a glamour over his hands perfectly, but he enjoyed it. 

It was the first time since his fall he heard music other than the one in his head. A little festival was all he needed, even if he couldn’t enjoy it long, though. 

Lucifer could feel how his glamour started to slip. And he couldn’t bear it when the humans screamed at him again. In hell, or when they are evil and need to be punished? No problem. But not those innocent humans. He had to get away from them. But it was too late. Too many humans and he couldn’t run away, and the more nervous he got, the more difficult it became to keep his human appearance. 

Till it slipped. A loud, piercing scream echoed from the man next to him, who was about to have sex with him right here a moment ago.

“No...please, listen to me.” More screaming and they ran away from him. They pushed each other out of the way, but none of them even touched him in their panic. That reaction shattered his heart once more. In moments like that a glimpse of the old, innocent Samael was there. It hurt him, he couldn’t hold back his tears. He just wanted some company. More than soulless and emotionless demons. Was that too much to ask? Just for a few hours.

“Was it worth it?” Mazikeen asked when they returned to hell once more. Her master became a little more broken every time they went to earth. Every single time, a small piece of him died inside. And it was a weird thing that made her chest tight, every time she saw that look in his eyes. Even when she didn’t know what it was.

“Yes...every single second.” Even if he was still heartbroken, he enjoyed it. And nothing would stop him from doing that again.

 

* * *

 

“But a lot of time passed between then and leaving hell permanently. Why? And why did you decide to leave for good, anyway?” 

Chloe now massaged his cramped back muscles. It seemed like tucking giant angel wings in all day would mess up those too. But she enjoyed it as much as he did. It was a good decision to move in with him, instead of the other way around. She would go crazy with him and those fluffy things knocking things over all the time. 

The first time they had sex was shortly after his reveal. And his wings unfurled with such an intense force that they punched a hole in her wall and shattered the window on the other side, as soon as she touched his back.

If Chloe was honest with herself, she was turned on by this sight. Especially during his climax, his wings spread out, the room too small for them so they pressed against the wall, his eyes glowing and his glamour dropping for just a few seconds.

That was a first timer for the Devil, and yes, she was very proud of it. Lucifer was ashamed at first, but after she kissed his glamourless form and assured him that it was fine, he relaxed. Since then they sometimes even had sex when he was in this form. 

“Hey, still awake?” It was several minutes and he hadn’t answered her questions.

“Hmmmm…” Okay, nearly asleep, he was adorable when he was drowsy like that. She had to kiss his nape and he shuddered.    
“I needed to train my glamour. I couldn’t run around, risking losing it at any time. The times humans saw my true face was enough to make me sure of that. So I trained. And it took a lot of time. I needed to be able to hold it when I was sleeping or fighting, or whatever. Permanently. What was maybe 200 years on earth were eons for me.”    
Yes, he told her that time moved differently, each second that passed here was roughly a year down there. When she learned the truth about her origins, and that Lucifer went back to hell - again - to save her life, and everything that happened with him, Uriel and his personal hell, she made the mistake of calculating how long his torment lasted. How often he had to kill his own brother in his hell. He never wanted to talk about that, not even to Linda. And that was something she could understand. 

Nobody should have to go through this ever. He tried to forget.

“I know, but you managed it, right?” She now was massaging his wings again, burying her fingers in the soft down, till she could feel the inhumanly warm skin beneath.

“I did, actually on my first test trip I had fantastic sex with that chap Shakespeare. Yeah, I know. I helped him pimp up his writing. And I could hold on to my glamour. It was fantastic. And from that point on, I planned my escape from hell. You know, when you are immortal time is not important to you…” She could hear the slight sting in his voice. Yeah, he was immortal, she was not. Something he avoided talking about at all costs. A few decades till she was old and would die, if nothing happened. Barely the blink of an eye for him. And to be honest? She wasn’t ready to think about that either, especially not for the third time this day. Her death would break Lucifer - it wasn’t a guess, it was a pure and cruel fact.

“And I needed to be prepared. So I visited earth more frequently. And what made me leave for good?”

He looked at her over his shoulder for a few moments with such an intensity that it gave her chills.

“I told you how hell looked, how it felt, how it drove me insane slowly? I think the thing that broke the camel's back was that poor soul I met. Dad is very strict when it comes to suicide. And it’s not fair. When a human suffers so much during his life that this is their only way out, it’s just not fair to let them suffer for all time, till they find a way out of their own guilt. And as you know, that never has happened. Even I would still be stuck down there without Mom’s help. But this soul, a spawn...can you believe it? It was a spawn, around Beatrice’s age. She killed herself because of the gruesome things that had happened to her. The people supposed to love and protect her...hurt her, damaged her and in my eyes also killed her.”

Chloe froze a few moments out of shock; this was so cruel. She knew Lucifer hated that suicide victims went to hell. But a child? Why was his father that cruel? 

“However, that was it. I couldn’t stay there anymore. I don’t know why, but I needed to get out of there. And I did. I didn’t care for anything, I just left with Maze. We arrived, I got rid of my wings and we started our adventure in the human world. Of course, I found the spawn’s parents and punished them accordingly.”

He sighed heavily, till another shiver ran through his body. Now Chloe was stroking the base of his wings. It felt amazing.

“And I’m glad you did, Lucifer. My life is so much better since you are in it. Even if you drive me nuts sometimes.”   
The Devil pouted at that and Chloe just fluffed his hair, knowing that he hated it.

“You do, you know it and you love doing it.” She kissed right between his shoulder blades, which made him spread his wings again and moan with pleasure.

“I’ll love you till the end of time, Detective.”

She knew it was true. And that was something she had to work on. She didn’t want to leave him alone when her time came. If necessary she would punch his Dad right in his face, but somehow she would find a solution.

 


End file.
